


Loyalty

by Other Oodles (Oodles)



Category: Dark Souls III
Genre: Alpha Lorian, Alpha/Omega, Incest, M/M, Omega Lothric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oodles/pseuds/Other%20Oodles
Summary: An omega prince is a big deal, and his alpha brother is struggling.





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> This is a commission for a anonymous prompter! Thank you muchly, it was fun to write.

Lorian knew his place. He may have been the eldest, he carried the sword, but Lothric was higher. Lothric was special. 

Lorian had lived a normal life as a child. Another alpha prince was to be expected and so Lorian was never asked for much. He was often surprised with what he could get away with, how no one seemed to mind his devious ways. And then his younger brother came around. Things became hushed at first, rumors of a sickly child, and Lorian hadn’t even been allowed to meet his own brother for many years. It was explained to Lorian on Lothric’s third birthday. 

_ Your brother is important. He’ll allow us to save this city and this failing kingdom. There hasn’t been an omega prince in ages.  _

That’s when Lorian’s training began. He would become the greatest protector, because only  _ he _ could be trusted to keep Lothric safe. Lorian knew what would happen. 

There would be fights for Lothric. Their father was already planning for blood. 

But Lorian was good at taking orders, and so he dedicated himself to swordplay. An alpha prince was nothing, but an omega prince needed all the help he could get. 

The first time Lorian met Lothric, he bowed to the younger Prince, training sword at his hip. Lothric was, in fact, smaller than normal, a bit sickly in the tone of his pale skin and the circles around his eyes, but all Lorian saw was the boy he was set to protect. This was important– his foremost duty. The young Prince was only five and sat beside their father in his throne.  _ Thank you _ , he’d said, eyes bright. Lorian had smiled back, pleased that he didn’t have to try to win Lothric’s favor. He forgot sometimes that they were brothers, they were already bonded in some ways.  

Their father, Oceiros, gave Lothric everything he wanted. For a time. 

Lothric lived a privileged life for many years. Lavish gifts from family members all the time,  _ and _ from other kingdoms with royal alphas even remotely close to Lothric’s age. Sometimes it worried Lorian when he read those little cards from widowed kings. Surely their father had enough sense to let Lothric choose a suitable mate. If Lothric  _ wanted _ to be with a washed up old King that was one thing, but Lorian trusted Lothric to have slightly better taste than that. 

As Lothric grew older, Lorian grew stronger. Never would he outshine his younger, but people began to appreciate him. It startled Lorian that first time he picked up on a particularly good scent. He was fifteen, and though he was still young, people marveled at his abilities. He had already been permitted to stand by Lothric’s side as his guard in royal doings. Of course, there was a legion of other guards as well, but Lorian insisted he be able to do the job he had been trained for. 

Lothric was seated in his throne when Lorian caught a scent that put the hair on the back of his neck on end. The smell was subtle, but it was lovely. His gaze hitched onto a server walking by. The server returned his look, eyes a little wide, and for a moment, Lorian felt as though he would be struck by lightning at any moment. 

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Lothric said quietly, leaning toward Lorian. “Was it handsome?”

Lorian blinked away the sight of the pretty server and straightened his back. “Quite hideous actually.”

“Really?” Lothric smiled. “No wonder you look so skittish. I hope you don’t see it again.”

“Neither do I,” Lorian said, quite sincerely. He didn’t need distractions. Lothric needed him more than Lorian needed to explore what smelled so damn good. 

The scent lingered in the air until the event was over, until Lorian bid Lothric goodnight and returned to his own chambers. The frustration finally left him and he was able to focus again. It annoyed him to know that he, too, could get so overwhelmed like other alphas. He wanted to be better than that. 

Things were rote for a while, and, with Lothric’s insisting, Lorian was given precious moments to put the sword down and just spend time with Lothric. 

“I have everything in the world except a person to play chess with,” Lothric complained to their father once when he was fourteen. “Who isn’t twice my age and then some.”

Oceiros was amused enough to allow the request. Lorian was to be protector first, of course, and companion second. That was when he truly began to appreciate Lothric’s words. The younger Prince had a small sense of humor, and a sharp eye, and a wide smile that rarely surfaced. It seemed as though he saved it for Lorian. 

Lorian was always happy to spend time with Lothric whether for a literal game of chess or a trip to the high wall or a discussion in the library, but what Lorian loved most was watching Lothric practice his spellwork. Something Lorian, as an alpha, would never be able to do. The lights and the colors and the warmth of it all amazed him. Lothric enjoyed studying the stars and would show Lorian replicas of constellations on the ceiling. 

Once, while Lothric was attempting to string together a particularly complicated array of stars, his magic seemed to slip through his fingers. Lothric stared at his disobedient hands, confusion in his gaze. He tried again, but was completely unable to conjure anything. 

That sweet but subtle smell rose up around Lorian. It was like lavender, but sweeter. It was divine. He wanted to drown in it, but there was Lothric, looking like he wanted to cry. Logic and upset reared up in Lorian and he forced himself to speak. 

“Are you okay? Are you sick?” he asked.

Lothric’s gaze was frantic. “I don’t know. I feel… odd.”

“Let me get you to the healer.”

Lorian wasted no time scooping Lothric up off the ground and carrying him through the halls of the castle. Lothric locked his arms around Lorian’s neck with surprising strength. Lorian almost paused several times, a bit overwhelmed at this scent, and at the nearly unstoppable urge to return the embrace. Maybe it would comfort Lothric to be held? For Lorian to bury his face in Lothric’s neck?

Lorian shook his head and kept on going until he was able to deliver Lothric to a healer. The people all nodded knowingly and told Lorian that he did the right thing to bring Lothric to them. The look on Lothric’s face made Lorian question his decision. 

~

They kept Lothric locked up for three days to let the heat pass. No one was allowed to see him. On the second night, Lorian woke up while the moon was still strong, and became overwhelmed by that sweet lavender scent. His body commanded him to get up and go find the source, and Lorian’s brain shut off. He followed it through the castle, but sense came rushing back when he saw the guard posted outside Lothric’s door and realized that he was only reacting to an omega in heat. 

He forced himself back to his bed, but that sweet smell still lingered around him, disrupting his sleep until they released Lothric. Lorian was grateful that Lothric had been kept away from him. He was disturbed by his own reaction. It’d been explained to him a while ago that he shouldn’t have a problem around Lothric when this happened, due to their blood relation, and yet…

Lorian was glad to resume their normal relationship, feeling especially driven by his guard duties. It kept him focused. Being Lothric’s friend, on the other hand, was getting complicated. Lothric’s heats were starting to drive Lorian a little mad. He became moody and incredibly hungry, in more ways than one. He took to intense training regimens, or would request a mission from his father during those few days. Fighting was the only thing that would let out the steam.

Up until this point, Lorian hadn’t really felt that need that other alphas had spoken of. About a year after Lothric’s first heat, it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He and Lothric were in the gardens, given the illusion of privacy. They may have been out of sight, but there were other guards close enough to smell them. Lothric had taken an interest in attempting to speed the process of growing flowers. Lorian was watching Lothric as he studied a patch of green blossoms, smiling and practicing casting light on the budding flowers. It was sweet watching Lothric care for something. Lorian was sitting on the ground, knees bent, studying. He could feel the warmth of the spellwork. It was nice, but it was getting hotter.

“They’re coming along nicely,” Lothric said, turning his smile on Lorian. 

Lorian blinked. His gaze dropped from Lothric’s eyes to his neck. Everything was starting to melt away, and all Lorian could process was the urge to put his scent on Lothric, to cover up the smell of the garden so Lothric would only smell like Lorian. 

Lorian took a deep breath and held it.

Lothric frowned. “Are you alright? You’re tearing up the grass.” 

Lorian felt the coolness of the patch of greens he had just ripped from the earth. 

“I need to leave,” Lorian said, attempting to get to his feet. 

Lothric grabbed Lorian’s hand. “Wait. What’s going on?”

Lorian froze at Lothric’s touch, and Lorian knew by the way Lothric’s face fell that he thought his brother was upset with him. Lorian didn’t want to explain this to Lothric. He should have been able to control these urges around Lothric. His brother shouldn’t appear so appealing. It was wrong. 

But he didn’t want to hurt Lothric’s feelings. His protectiveness of Lothric’s emotional well being was an equally strong urge.

“Lothric, please,” Lorian said, flexing his hand into a fist. “I’m feeling something coming on. I need to go.”

“What is it?” Lothric asked, confusion and hurt clear in his voice. 

Lorian clenched his jaw, Lothric’s own smell getting stronger around him. “I can’t be around you when these feelings arise. Please let me find someone before I do something we’ll both regret.”

Lothric didn’t let go of Lorian’s hand. “What would I possibly regret? You’re my best friend.”

Lorian surprised both of them when he let out a low kind of growl, his patience and control thinning. He was inches away from succumbing to this ache. 

“I can’t… Lothric, it isn’t right.”

Lothric’s eyes widened for a moment as realization struck. “Are you coming up on a ru–”

“Yes, and I need to leave  _ now _ ,” Lorian urged, and though he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to break free of Lothric’s soft hold on his hand. He would never forgive himself if he ever hurt Lothric, but he also wasn’t sure if he could handle losing his control in front of Lothric either. He cursed every god he could think of for sending him into this state  _ now _ of all times. 

But, damnit all, Lothric wouldn’t let go. He watched Lorian intently and his lips parted, but he couldn’t seem to find any words for what he was thinking. Lorian’s breathing was starting to deepen and all he could smell was Lothric. That sweet smell that was like heaven on earth. Lorian’s eyes slid shut and he inhaled deeply, everything shutting out of his brain except one thought that pounded through his blood.  _ Mine. _

“Lorian!” Lothric let out a little gasp and before Lorian knew what he was doing, he had Lothric pinned to the grass, nose pressed to Lothric’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself from breathing in deep. It didn’t matter that it was his brother, or that there were guards nearby. He just needed to do this. It was  _ so  _ sweet.

 

Lothric went still at first, the entirety of Lorian’s weight far too much for him to push off. But, as Lorian made this small noise of contentment, Lothric found he didn’t want to move Lorian at all. Lorian had always smelled nice to Lothric – like musk and warmth – something he had attributed to their blood bond. Now, though, Lothric felt his own heart pounding and he doubted it had much to do with being brothers. He was scared to move at first, for fear of breaking this odd spell, nothing but the sound of Lorian’s breath and those almost inaudible little  _ mm’s _ that he kept making. But, Lothric worried that his stillness might come off as displeasure, so, very slowly, he lifted his hand up to touch Lorian’s long blond hair. With one motion, he combed his fingers through the length of it, soft and lovely and full of that good scent. 

It wasn’t clear if Lorian had any sense of what was even happening, but Lothric was thrilled to be able to help Lorian in any way he could. Not to mention, this felt good to him, this weight on his body and the way Lorian was holding him in place. Lothric wanted to reciprocate, wrapping both arms around Lorian’s back. 

When Lothric felt something warm on his neck, he squeezed Lorian tighter, encouraging him. Lorian turned Lothric’s head a little, exposing more of his neck, and licked him again. Goosebumps swept over Lothric’s body, and he smiled unconsciously. This is what he had been lacking, what he had been  _ craving _ . Closeness. People rarely ever touched Lothric. At most, a hand on his shoulder from his father, or a pat on the face from his mother. Even healers avoided contact at all costs. It was forbidden, of course. An omega prince should only be touched by his future mate– or so they said.

Meanwhile, he knew Lorian had been encouraged to be with others, and that thought had always upset him. He didn’t want Lorian to go around scenting people and lusting after other omegas. He wanted to keep Lorian by his side. 

This was his reward. 

 

Lorian felt the intensity of the ache fading the more he was able to breathe in this scent without restriction. Giving in to the urge seemed to be the only way to calm the fire. As his senses returned to him, he felt Lothric’s hands in his hair. Lorian let out a long sigh and picked his head up, observing Lothric’s pale throat for any marks. Nothing visible, only Lorian’s own scent clinging to Lothric. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

Lothric shook his head. “No, don’t be. It’s… nice.”

For a moment, Lorian thought to be horrified by the both of them. How very wrong this was, on so many levels. But then he saw the look on Lothric’s face, so peaceful and happy, and all he could think was that it was for the best. If this made Lothric feel good, why shouldn’t he? As long as he kept himself from doing anything else. 

Lorian finally managed to pull himself off of Lothric, the feeling fading, at least for the moment. Once they were separated and upright, Lorian could still smell himself strongly on Lothric, and he worried that someone might realize what he had done. Quickly, he shed his jacket and gave it to Lothric. 

“Put this on and say you got cold. It will explain my scent on you.”

Lothric smiled and put the much too large jacket over his shoulders. He toyed with the silver buttons. “May I keep this?”

Lorian very much enjoyed this sight. “Of course.”

~

It only changed their routine a little. Lothric requested privacy to practice his spellwork, and, once they were alone, Lorian did his best to behave himself and let Lothric work, until Lothric flipped his hood down, exposing his neck, and Lorian began to itch. He’d scratch at the armrest of his chair, gaze stuck on Lothric’s throat, and Lothric would smile.

“It’s okay,” he’d say. 

So Lorian would move closer, lean his head against Lothric’s shoulder and breathe. Lothric continued his work with the occasional touch of Lorian’s hair. Lorian could hardly stand these inviting gestures. It gave him an ache deep in his body that he knew he wouldn’t be able to settle properly. 

Every time these sessions came to an end, Lorian felt a little shaky but proud that he was able to restrain himself from anything other than scenting. It was not his place to claim Lothric. 

This worked for a while, until Lothric turned of age and the suitors began to show themselves. Alphas from many different kingdoms came to impress the prince. The first time Oceiros entertained a handsome young royal at their table, Lorian felt anger much like when Lothric was locked away in heat. A fiery, demonic prince from the Ringed City, Lorian fumed at the smiles cast at Lothric. Lothric, unsurprisingly, ignored most of these furtive glances– Lothric acted as if he was in his own little world. Even so, Lorian felt unnatural desires rearing up inside. He wanted to run his sword through this arrogant prince. He wanted to spirit Lothric away from these claims. He wanted to do many things with Lothric, most of them selfish. 

While in Lothric’s study, Lorian felt that possessive urge more than ever as he inched closer to Lothric, hands tentatively settling on Lothric’s waist. He pulled Lothric into his lap, wanting to drown Lothric in his own scent. Lothric nestled up against him and Lorian pulled the hood from Lothric’s head, pushing Lothric’s hair aside and pressing his face to the back of Lothric’s neck.

“That prince has you on edge,” Lothric noted. 

Lorian sighed. “I feel foolish.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Lothric told him. “I won’t be settling for someone like him.”

Lorian held Lothric tighter. He didn’t want to admit how much this pleased him. He certainly didn’t want to admit that it stoked the fire inside him– that he couldn’t stand the thought of Lothric with  _ anyone _ . When he looked at Lothric, all he could hear was the word  _ mine  _ synced up with the sharp pounding of his heart. He felt doomed by these thoughts. 

Lothric touched Lorian’s hand, tracing Lorian’s long fingers. “I don’t much like the thought of leaving home. I… I know I shouldn’t say this but sometimes I doubt I will find anyone as good as you.”

Lorian felt his heart constrict, and his whole body tensing. He regretted pulling Lothric so close. His imagination was carrying him away from here, toward privacy, toward Lothric, toward the opportunity left in Lothric’s voice. Lorian couldn’t speak.

“I wonder sometimes,” Lothric began, turning his head toward Lorian’s. “If, in another life, we could have been bonds.”

Lorian started breathing heavily, intoxicated by these words, this closeness, and this scent. Everything was fading away again, and his whole lower body was reacting to this forbidden thought.  _ Bonds _ . How badly he wanted it. He was tracing Lothric’s throat with his finger, and then with his tongue, and Lothric made this quiet noise, latching onto Lorian’s upper arm. Lothric was shivering, not at all from any chill. Alone in the study with nothing but books around them, Lorian had no more room for disgust. He nipped the back of Lothric’s neck, just a little mark. 

Lothric shifted in his lap, turning to face him, and the subtle movement was enough to get Lorian hard. There was a sound and it was Lorian growling in Lothric’s ear, his hands digging into Lothric’s sides, pressing their bodies together. Lorian’s left hand drifted down Lothric’s body, sliding down his backside, gripping tightly. 

Lothric leaned his head back and whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

Something about the need in Lothric’s voice penetrated the haze in Lorian’s brain and he froze up. “Gods.” He pushed Lothric away, leaning forward and trying to catch his breath. 

Lothric touched Lorian’s face. “It’s okay.”

“No,” Lorian snapped. “You are meant for someone else. Someone who can be with you the way bonds are meant.”

With that, he stood and quickly left the room, afraid to hear more truths in Lothric’s voice. 

~

Lothric went into heat that night. Lorian was almost as bad, pacing his room, feeling a horrid burning in his body. He kept picturing Lothric in bed, desperate and alone. Maybe he was thinking of Lorian, remembering him. Maybe he had Lorian’s coat with him after all this time? Did Lorian’s scent comfort him, or did it fluster and excite? Maybe he wanted Lorian as badly as Lorian wanted him. 

The first night was barely tolerable. The second had Lorian shamelessly getting himself off at the thought of Lothric in heat, thinking of  _ him _ . But it wasn’t enough. Touching himself only made him want true relief even more. 

By the third night, he was standing at his door, ready to go hunting down anyone to get this out of his system. But the thought of doing this with anyone else upset him. He forced himself to bed, but as silence descended, he swore he could hear Lothric. It sounded like his own name in Lothric’s voice, cried out with manic desire. Lorian figured his mind was only supplying what he wanted to hear. There was no way he could actually hear Lothric across the castle, but oh, how sweet this illusion sounded. And how torturous. 

He was falling into a fitful sleep and dreaming of warm bright light. His eyes fluttered open when it felt all too real, and he grabbed the dagger that he kept under his pillow. He crept out of his bedchamber and into the parlour outside, only to find Lothric leaning against the armchair that faced the fire. Lorian started, the dagger falling from his hand. This must be a dream after all.

“How are you here?” he breathed, rushing over to a distraught Lothric.

Lothric was breathing heavily, and immediately latched onto Lorian’s arms when he was within reach. “ _ Lorian _ ,” his voice was ragged. 

“This can’t be real,” Lorian muttered, hugging Lothric to his chest. “Tell me what brought you here.”

Lothric made a small pained noise and turned a tired smile up to Lorian. “Perhaps I’ve been practicing spellwork I shouldn’t be.”

Lorian touched Lothric’s cheek, fingers brushing his soft hair. The younger prince was in a state, all flushed and staggered breaths. Lorian found himself flustered at the sight. Lothric leaned his head against Lorian’s chest, hands bunching up the fabric of his nightshirt. “Lorian, please,” Lothric begged. “No one will help me. It’s torture.”

_ Only a dream _ , Lorian thought as he wove his fingers through Lothric’s long hair, down over his back. “Help you with what?”

“The heat,” Lothric said, nuzzling his face into Lorian’s chest. Lorian was all too aware of Lothric’s lips through the thin fabric of his shirt, and his own desperation beginning to surface. His hands had unconsciously settled on Lothric’s hips, pulling him closer. Every part of Lorian was alert and focused on Lothric, who seemed barely able to stand. Lothric’s legs were trembling.

“It’s wrong,” Lorian said, though his voice lacked conviction, and his traitorous hands were drawing circles on the small of Lothric’s back. 

“I don’t care,” Lothric was practically pleading. “I don’t want a foolish arrogant prince from some other land. Lorian… Lorian, _ please _ , you know what I want.”

He did, all too clearly, and it would be useless to deny that he wanted it as well. Not when he had Lothric alone in his arms like this. What did he get from lying? He could have so much more from the truth.

“Come here,” Lorian breathed, scooping Lothric off the ground. Lorian could feel the wetness on Lothric’s legs from the heat, how ready and willing he was.

Lothric went limp, head nestled against Lorian’s shoulder, repeating, half delirious, “thank you, oh,  _ thank you _ .”

All this time spent denying himself, when Lorian placed Lothric on his bed, it all became real in a rush. This was  _ not _ a dream– this was happening right here, right now. Lothric, begging Lorian for the relief they both so desperately wanted, and Lorian, falling to his knees with weakness. He wrapped his arms around Lothric’s middle and pressed his face in close.

“I can’t say no to you,” he said.

Lothric returned the embrace and for a brief moment, they simply sat there, enjoying this closeness, and each other’s scents. But Lorian let his hands slide down Lothric’s sides, smoothing out his robes and lightly touching his thighs. Lothric gave a quiet whine at the soft touch, and Lorian gripped him tighter. The warmth of everything was wearing down his control. All he wanted was Lothric in any way he could have him. 

That word was rising up again.  _ Mine.  _ Lorian shoved Lothric onto his back and all the wrongness disappeared as he inhaled against Lothric’s neck, nipping and licking at his skin. So sweet, and so unfairly kept from him. But it was his now, finally. 

Lorian was growling again and Lothric whimpered in response, clawing at Lorian’s back. “Please, don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

Lorian was torn between the desire to take his time and savor this moment, or to lose himself as far and as fast as he could, no turning back. It was the little moan that Lothric gave when Lorian started to push his robes aside that shattered his patience. All he felt was that possessiveness, that need that he’d always struggled with as an alpha with Lothric so close and unreachable. He didn’t even bother to undress Lothric, just spread Lothric’s legs apart and  _ felt _ . 

 

Lothric arched his back, his whole body unwinding from the need that he’d felt for so long. Lorian had him pinned, teasing him with both hands, grunting in his ear. It was everything he wanted. 

“I’ve dreamed about this,” Lothric whispered, voice strained as Lorian felt out the length of him. 

It appeared Lorian had lost his voice, only able to respond with low, animalistic noises. Lothric adored the sounds, lost to a moan himself as Lorian tentatively slid one finger inside him. This pressure was what he needed, what he’d craved– so much better than doing it himself. He took it easily, and soon all he wanted was more. 

All it took was one word, “ _ please _ ,” uttered with such raw need, and Lorian pushed deeper with two fingers. He was steadily working Lothric under his robes, and Lothric had never known such an utter loss of control. Hands bunched in the sheets of Lorian’s bed, legs bent around Lorian’s body, he forgot what shame was. All that mattered was Lorian’s hands around and inside him, Lorian’s body pressed against him, Lorian’s staggered growls in his ear. Lothric could feel Lorian’s erection through their clothes and it made him even hungrier, wondering what it would be like– if Lorian would– no, of course not– but how he wanted to be knotted so badly. 

Lothric gasped quite suddenly with a rush of pleasure through his whole body. Lorian was relentless with every stroke and Lothric was rising up to meet the steady rhythm of his hands. It was heightened by the way Lorian was rutting his hips into Lothric’s thigh, unable to ignore his own wants, but still so dedicated to Lothric. It was enough, to feel so special, so cared for while drowning in this need, and so wanted. 

“Oh,  _ Lorian _ ,” Lothric could hardly comprehend his own words. “I’ve never– it feels so–  _ ah! _ ”  

Lothric spilled into Lorian’s hand and all over his robes, panting, body tensed underneath Lorian’s. Lorian relaxed against him, withdrawing his hands and taking a deep breath. He laid beside Lothric, touching his side.

“Is that better?” he asked, finally able to speak again.

Lothric wanted to say yes, because it  _ should _ have been enough. But it wasn’t. Laying there, empty again, he’d never felt so greedy.

 

Lorian knew from the look on Lothric’s face that he had only awakened a new need in him. Lothric turned to Lorian, curled against him, hands on his chest. The mewling noise he made was devilish music to Lorian, and his own neglected body yearned for connection. 

“Lorian,” Lothric pressed in closer. “I want more. Please, I– I want  _ you _ .”

All Lorian could do was try to breathe through it, but he was so keyed up by this terrible arousal, and Lothric was only begging him for more.  

“Just a little,” Lothric asked, mouth on the hollow of Lorian’s neck. Lothric was pushing at Lorian’s shirt, hands starting to inch down toward his groin. “Please. Let me feel…”

Lorian was too far gone to care how steep this slope they walked was. “Only your hands,” he managed.  _ As long as he didn’t take it too far _ .

Lothric touched Lorian through fabric, soft and hesitant at first. Lorian went silent, arms wrapping around Lothric’s back. It didn’t matter how unsure Lothric was, it still felt deliriously good to have Lothric doing this. As Lothric slowly pulled at Lorian’s clothes, exposing him, Lorian clung to the back of Lothric’s robes. That first moment of skin to skin was fire through his whole body. He may have said something, he may have just growled again, but he was definitely slipping. His hands were already sliding lower on Lothric’s body again. 

The smell now was so thick and real and overpowering. Lothric was getting more sure in the way he touched Lorian and Lorian was about ready to rip Lothric’s robes apart. This was fine, though, this was impermanent, something they could still walk away from.

“Lorian,” Lothric’s voice was ruined as he pushed his body up against Lorian’s, fingers slick around Lorian’s cock. “Let me feel.”

Everyone knew how it worked. 

“Just a little,” Lorian breathed.

It wasn’t sex that meant anything. 

Lothric pulled Lorian’s hips closer, and Lorian could hardly stand to be gentle with Lothric as he got him on his back again. Moving Lothric’s robes aside, Lorian lined them up, reminding himself that Lothric had never done this, and he was so much smaller than Lorian. Lorian had to be kind, and careful and  _ it was fine, as long as Lorian didn’t knot him. _

The moan Lothric gave as Lorian pushed inside him was so satisfying, but still not as good as the tightness around his cock. It would be difficult to stop in time. The two of them paused for a moment, Lorian not yet fully inside, trying to let Lothric acclimate, but Lothric gripped Lorian’s hair.

“ _ More _ ,” Lothric pleaded.

Lorian couldn’t say no, just gave in to the need to be as deep as possible. He was less gentle as he buried himself and the noises Lothric made confirmed their mutual desire. This felt  _ right _ . 

A perfect fit. 

Lothric finally seemed to be relaxing from the discomfort of the heat, but as he nuzzled his face against Lorian’s, Lorian knew the heat wasn’t half of their problem. 

“Lorian,” Lothric’s voice was quiet, and his hands came to rest on Lorian’s hips. “I want to feel you move. Please?”

Lorian had no words, only a swelling ache. He pulled back, almost completely out, eliciting a needy disappointed noise from Lothric. Which was all the more gratifying to silence when he shoved back in. Lorian commanded himself to go slow, but it only lasted so long with Lothric’s own panting and begging in his ear. Soon, all he knew was the feel of Lothric all around him. Every thrust was lovely and terrible and Lorian wasn’t even aware of how fast he was going, only how good it felt. He wanted more skin, more scent, more  _ Lothric _ , pausing briefly just to disrobe Lothric and continue on. Lothric was lost to it all, keening from such long denied pleasure, nails digging almost painfully into Lorian’s back. The fullness of it and the closeness had Lothric undone again, coming on Lorian’s shirt, a beautiful mess. They were tied in every way except one. 

Lorian was miserably close to release, and his last shred of common sense kicked in. 

_ Knotting was for bonds only.  _

_ Bonds mated for life. _

He started to pull out of Lothric, but Lothric locked shaking arms around Lorian’s neck, keeping him there.

“Don’t go,” Lothric whimpered. “Please. Lorian, I want you… I want you to kn–”

Lorian silenced Lothric with a kiss. He couldn’t stand to hear that request, to hear something that he  _ had _ to say no to. Oh, but the kiss was a mistake. Lothric melted under him, and it only invited everything in stronger. Lorian moaned into Lothric’s mouth, tongue sliding in, and Lothric fell back to greed, clawing at Lorian’s body. 

“Please,” Lothric managed between kisses. “I won’t know peace… I  _ must _ have you…”

Lorian had no willpower left. He pulled away from Lothric, only to flip him onto his stomach. He wasted no time thrusting back inside as deep as he could. Lothric cried out, body tensed and flushed and Lorian couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and biting the back of Lothric’s neck. 

He moved– so close– rocking forward. Lothric was practically sobbing for it, asking for his knot, meeting every thrust so hungrily. Lorian had a hand on one of Lothric’s arms and the other hand on one of his thighs, pinning him down, no doubt bruising him, but the only thing out of his mouth was, “ _ you’re mine, you’re mine _ .”

And Lothric had nothing left to respond with but, “ _ I’m yours, god, I’m yours. _ ”

Hearing those words set him off and Lorian unraveled. His body locked inside Lothric’s, all he could do was hold tight to Lothric and sink through the waves of pleasure. He had a thought for Lothric’s comfort and turned them onto their sides. Lothric reached back to soothe Lorian with a touch of his hair. They were both spent and silent for many minutes, save for Lorian’s contented sighs as he continued to fill Lothric. 

As the madness settled, Lothric gave a small laugh. “You didn’t even remove your clothes.”

Lorian returned the little laugh. “You can’t beg for haste and expect diligence.” He traced lines down Lothric’s body. “What will we tell them tomorrow? There is no covering this scent with jackets.”

Lothric turned his head and Lorian studied the look on his face. “Perhaps I have been studying magic I shouldn’t be.”

Lorian began to smile, squeezing Lothric’s hip. “When did you get so wicked?”

Lothric pushed back into him, sending another wave through Lorian. “When they told me I couldn’t have you.”

Lorian held Lothric as close as he could, burying his face against Lothric, feeding off the scent and the feel and the sound of their bond. 

“I will follow you to wickedness and back, my prince.”


End file.
